


Aquam Regis

by steingasse



Category: Free!
Genre: Arabian!AU, M/M, Slow Build, based on the ending theme, desert!AU, nitorin - Freeform, reuploaded from ff, rintori - Freeform, side pairings makoharu regisa seigou
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-16 15:58:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1353292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steingasse/pseuds/steingasse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of a kingdom in the desert, fiercely protecting the only oasis for miles around; of a servant boy, bewildered by the presence of royalty; of how two races mingled again, despite hardened differences. But most importantly, it is the story of a of a great drought, which sent a noble on a hopeless trek for water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm reuploading this here since Ao3 seems to be increasing in popularity. I've lost interest in writing this, but maybe some feedback will inspire me to continue. There's currently four chapters written.

 

Ai was awakened by the sound of glass breaking.

                It was the head steward again, angered by the oversleeping lower servants’ tardiness. He stormed into the serfs’ quarters belting profanities; the sound was a plate he had thrown at the wall in irritation. It now lay in pieces on the floor.

                Ai jumped up, hitting his head on the low bunk above him, and blinked heavy sleep out of his eyes. His joints ached from resting on his bed, which was really nothing more than a sitting mat placed in an unpadded grotto cut into the sandstone walls of the castle. Rubbing grit from his face and stretching his arms, Ai cautiously peered out of his accommodations and above him to ensure that the two men in bunks on top of his were already out and that he wouldn’t receive the unpleasant wakeup call of a foot to the face.

                “What’re ya doin’!?” The call came again and Ai slid to the ground, landing unsteadily on his feet and quickly throwing a tunic over his shoulders. The head was at the other side of the dormitory, terrorizing some petty assistant that had taken an unexpected fall to the ground from his bunk and was currently rubbing his ankle in pain. “Everyone get’ta work! Ya’ll late!” Servants quickly fled the room, not wanting to further incite the head’s wrath, and scurrying off to their respective duties. Mutters flew around about the disagreeable alarm they had been given, but the voices were submissively quiet. The head steward was not a man one questioned. Not unless they wished to have spit flung in their face as he yelled, their face stinging from humiliation and the slap of his hand, rash and unpredictable from his near constant hangovers.

Ai slipped up the narrow curving stairs to the main floor of the castle. The stone, chilled by the underground air, felt unseasonably cool on his feet, but then again, anything remotely even cold was unusual around here. The only time the desert city-state shivered was at the dead of night when no one was around to feel it. The palace underground, home to its butlers and slaves, was an exception however. It was constantly frigid, like the air after a rare rain, and dark but for trembling candlelight that spread ash over the low ceilings.

 _A complete opposite from the upper floors,_ Ai mused as he reached the final step of the staircase and came into a sort of dim closet, narrow passageway branching off in a few different ways. These were the helps’ hallways. The nobles and ambassadors did not often like to see servants scurrying about their feet as they drifted from one chamber to the next, so the second class citizens, the gears that kept the palace ticking and its inhabitant safe and fed, worked inside the walls, only coming out when specified for work. Even then they were quiet, inconspicuous, and didn’t venture where they could be seen. Out of sight, out of mind, like urchin cats roaming alleyways, only tolerated because they kept the rats away.

Aiichirou Nitori had been born into this life of disregarded servitude, washing the feet of whoever had the money to pay for his dinner. It was by sheer luck that he had managed to secure a spot in the workforce of the Royal Palace of Samezuka – the most prosperous kingdom in the desert territories. If it wasn’t for the indifferent  protection of the castle walls, Ai was certain he’d been dead by now, crushed under the foot of hunger and street life. The castle was a blessing, a good life for a dog like him, and a beauty to peer at from the edge of a cupboard hatch.

Ai opened the only door in the claustrophobic space, an inch of light filtering in through the crack. It gave not a sound as he did so, designed to be as unnoticeable as possible, even going so far as to be disguised as a portion of the wall from the outside. Ai gently pried the door back, widening the opening, until he could fit his eye to the crack, blinking at the sudden change in light.

 _So bright,_ came to mind as he stared out again at the hallway, the floor of gleaming silver marble and sandy walls engraved with gold. Candles hung from the ceiling at long intervals, reflecting off the precious decorations with sudden bursts of brilliance. He could not see much from this spot, the same spot he had spied from every day since he came here, but it did not matter to him, because just the glossy stone floor and the veins of gold were beautiful enough to satisfy him, to bring his hopes up and reanimate his mind.

He didn’t know the rest of the palace. He didn’t wonder either. He didn’t ask for more, never even thought of asking.

 _Really,_ Ai frowned as he shut the opening quietly and started down a dim passage, towards a duty he was already late for. _It just hurts more otherwise._

He would never get more than this.

* * *

 

                Ai’s hands were red and swollen, overworked from pounding grain into flour. He wiped sweat from his forehead – the effect of the blazing kitchen chimineas he worked with and the sun, high in the sky, which now beat down on the city with a vengeance. Even the palace was ablaze, the air sticky and thick from panting breaths. The chef had not been happy with his unpunctuality; Ai had not been given a break since he arrived, smashing millet and removing the husks with a crude mortar and pestle. His stomach groaned, having missed breakfast, and his arms were shaking.

                With a yelp as the pestle landed on his thumb, Ai slumped against a nearby wall, looking around for the cook before resting and nursing his injured appendage. He shut his eyes as he sucked on it, his mouth dry and throat scratchy. As much as he usually pitied the men sent to retrieve water from the city oasis, he wished for that job today. Although the journey through the streets was tedious, and the sun bore down on them all the way, once they got to their destination it must all be worth it, Ai thought. _To have that much water before you,_ Ai barely remembered it, so long had it been since he’d left the palace. The most liquid he’d seen in one place since was the community tub he was allowed to use once a week, murky and filled only to his knees.

                The slamming of a door and a calling voice pulled him out of his recollections. Ai stiffened and pressed himself against the gritty wall, straining his ears as the room fell silent. A pattering of feet signaled the chief chef approaching the main door and greeting someone, impatience hidden behind thin manners.

                “It’s the Prince,” rang an unfamiliar voice, deep and energetic. “Someone pissed him off again.”

                A rumble ran through the kitchen workers at this, nervous whispers resounding off the hard surfaces. Ai’s brow furrowed, as long as he had been here, he had never heard much about the Prince, or any of the royal family for that matter. Of course he knew of the King – one must know their own kingdom’s ruler – but other than that the lives of the ones on the top floor seemed unimportant, mysterious, and the only thing he had ever gathered was that its two inhabitants, the Prince and the Princess, were a bit of a handful.

                “He scared off another one, huh?” came the rough voice of the chef. “Can’t say I’m surprised.” A laugh sounded at this and Ai gathered the courage to peer around the corner and observe the exchange. By the entrance to the galley stood the chef and a tall muscular man, his auburn hair slicked back from his face. He was clothed in fabric rich for a commoner, with deep orange drapes and thick leather. A golden cord encircled his head, matching the sheath of the scimitar at his side. A palace guard.

                “The kitchen boys tend to be nicer,” the guard continued. “I figured you might have one to spare?” Ai blinked at this comment, still not quite sure what was being discussed. The chef sighed, scratching his balding head before glancing behind him to take in his crew. His eyes grazed over the crowd of workers, most still preparing the meal, unbothered, until they landed on a small kid anxiously clutching a corner. Ai stiffened as he caught the man’s eye.

                “That one,” the chef declared, pointing in his direction. The guard followed his finger. “He barely does his work anyway. _Hey, boy!”_  Ai hesitantly stepped away from his corner, feeling pairs of eyes burn into him in-between glances of work. An unfamiliar sensation. He was not used to being looked at. Scurrying over to where the two men waited, Ai’s cheeks burned at the attention and his hands fluttered at his sides aimlessly, like they weren’t sure where they belonged anymore.

                “Go with this guard,” the chef said, gesturing with his thumb towards the wildly grinning man. “You’re being reassigned.” Ai’s heart thumped violently as he looked from person to person, finally settling on the strange soldiers’ golden eyes.

                “Where to?” he asked, finally finding his voice, however weak and pitched it may be. He could feel some kind of suspense in the room, some unspoken terms that he hadn’t yet figured out. Princes, guards, anger, relocation, they were a strum of an instrument falling into a chord. An exciting stirring piece of music that Ai wasn’t sure he was supposed to be hearing, but was witness to nonetheless.

                The guard smiled wider, in a way that was almost disconcerting.

“To the top floor, of course.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

                Palace guards did not have to use the wall passages, apparently. Of course, there weren’t many people in the grand hallways anyway - the highborn inhabitants locked away in their regal rooms during the heat of the day, handmaids cooling them with waving fronds. Ai only noticed the occasional guard or loftier servant patrolling as he followed his escort down warm tinted routes, the soldiers observing them thoughtfully, the servants sliding by stealthily but for the sound of ruffling clothing, their eyes held low.

                That said, Ai wasn’t much looking at the people. They were ordinary, everyday; he’d seen thousands of humans in his life. What lay out before him, what he was walking through, however, was something different. The stone beneath his feet was smoother than ice, hazily reflecting his expression as he looked down. The rough sandstone walls were carved intricately, symbols and words he knew not how to read outlined in gold and silver leaf, precious lapis lazuli adorning the keystones of arches. The ceiling was high, smoky, as the breath of a million candles was trapped, only escaping out through the occasional window, high on the walls, which let in thin beams of sunlight that scorched like fire.

                He’d only spied this much wealth before through gaps in walls and cracked open doors – a small peak into the feasting room where the food he helped make ended up; a glance from above the rafters in the main stairway. To stand in the midst of it all, to walk by the hidden door he had spied from this morning, it was overwhelming. Though he was in awe, there was a bout of fear prickling in the pit of his stomach. Ai still didn’t know what was to become of him, where he was going. The chef had practically pushed him out the door with the nameless soldier, his gaze hard and commanding. Had Ai done something wrong?

                                _The Top Floor._

                Ai had never been there; he had never been anywhere but the basement, the ground floor, and a few storage rooms in the one above. He had never spoken to anyone who had been up that high; even the servitude had its castes and anyone who attended the nobles wouldn’t lower themselves to talk with simple laborers. The upper chambers of the palace weren’t meant for him; he wasn’t _ready_ for them. They were too different, too open, even now, as he climbed endless marble staircases, hand drifting along the gleaming copper rail, he wanted to hide, to run. The idea of transferring to a place where people might see, look, where there may not be rooms specifically for the help to go to and be quiet, scared the living hell out of him. But he couldn’t turn around, and he couldn’t sneak away, because upon looking about Ai realized he didn’t know where he was anymore.

                The stairs ended in the center of a strangely circular hall, passages branching off on either side with archways every few feet leading into sunny rooms. Directly in front of them stood a pair of double doors, glinting gold, set into a scalloped alcove. Images of fruits and flowers traced the entrance, with heavy handles and a lock somewhat alike to a silver boulder. The guard walked over to these doors, swinging out a ring of keys and fiddling through them. Unsure, and daunted by the quiet and exquisite surroundings, Ai followed him, hands ringing up near his heart.

                The man glanced at him in surprise. “Oh, sorry kid.” His laugh was too loud in the empty echoic hallways. “I forgot you were there. Kinda quiet.” Ai just looked at him and back at the door, trying to communicate silently for fear that his voice would squeak out like it had earlier.

                Following his gaze the man brushed back his carroty hair and smiled rather sheepishly. “Ah, no. This is my stop. You’re over there.” He pointed back the way they came, and Ai’s eyes trailed his gesture, back through the middle of the circular room to the opposite side, where a gilded railing encircled the hole surrounding the stairwell. The floor snaked around the hole, approaching a door similar to the one he currently stood in front of on the other side. “That’s the prince’s quarters.”

                Ai spun back around in bewilderment but the man was already fitting a key into the enormous lock. It clicked open and he snapped the thing onto his belt, prying the door open and sending Ai a parting wave. The heavy gate shut with a dull thump, cutting off the quick glimpse Ai had taken of a spacious room within, rich magenta cushions thrown across the smooth tiled floor. Now alone, he stood for a while, tracing the designs in the door with his eyes, not daring to touch. Very slowly he picked his feet up and turned around, facing the door on the other side of the staircase.

                It had no lock, or guards for that matter, and in a small part of Ai’s mind that wasn’t panicking he wondered how that was safe. The most important man in the kingdom rested behind those doors – surely the workforce could spare a few people to protect him? Was Ai expected to? That was rather stupid, seeing how he could barely lift a full bucket of water, much less wield a sword correctly.

                These simple thoughts prompted him to take a few steps forward, curiosity overwhelming his fear. He got about halfway across the room before he stopped again, goosebumps rippling up and down his spine as a muffled screech sounded from behind him, following by frantic yelling. He glanced back at the door he had just left, eyes widening in worry. He shouldn’t go see what’s happening. No, that soldier is in there, everything should be fine. Ai steeled himself and kept walking, ignoring the argument that now seemed to be playing out to his back, growing ever quieter as he made his way closer to the door, closer, closer.

                Its designs were different up close. Animals and people danced across the metal, etchings that looked like woven gold bordering the scenes. A sea raged in one panel, something Ai had never seen in person. The waves crashed relentlessly against a boat, tossing it towards a land covered in mountains.

                His hand gripped the handle against all the noise in his head and the shaking in his legs. It’s not like he could exactly turn around and leave. Even if he managed to get back downstairs without getting lost or questioned by the watches, he would have disobeyed an order, one that may have originated from the prince himself.

                The door was heavier than he thought it would have been and he had to heave his shoulder into it to crack it open. A beam of light stung into his eyes, followed by a gust of sweltering air. Squeezing himself through the small gap he had managed to make, Ai stumbled into a courtyard of sorts, surrounded on all sides by an overhang supported by columns. Doors and archways led into rooms beyond the poles, each one filled with just as much daylight as the court itself, but Ai wasted no time peering into those. He was focused on the water. The rectangular stretch of water that pushed out in front of him, crystal clear, set into the stone of the flooring. It was easily four feet deep, and took up all of the space but for a walking path near the columns.

                The memory of the oasis was dim in his mind, but Ai was sure it had not been like this. It was bigger, yes, but rough, and sandy, and filled with thirsty people. This place, this pool, was still, silent, with perfect clean edges, in full warming sunlight. And there was only one person in the water.

                He had his back to Ai, his broad shoulders pulled up beside his ears as he stretched. The water drained off of him in rivulets, falling back into the pool with small splashes. With one hand he pushed back soaked red locks as he turned to face the sound of stumbling feet, cerise eyes focusing on the small boy. Ai steadied himself, stiffening as the stranger looked him up and down, concentrating on keeping himself upright and his mouth shut. Red eyes eventually met his cerulean ones, staring unblinkingly as Ai forced himself to look back, not knowing what else to do.

                The man eventually sighed and cracked his neck, eyes closing lazily. “Towel.” Ai jumped at the word, taking too long to register that he was being spoken too, understand the word, and look around till he saw a woven basket filled with linens. He grabbed one, rushing to hand it over, and averted his eyes quickly, realizing just in time that the man was completely undressed.

                Ai stared off at the water as below him the redhead wiped his face and neck, ringing out his amaranthine hair. The pool rippled gently with his movements, sending minute waves out to lap against the sides. Up above the sky was perfectly clear, the usual, sunburnt, sapphire blue. There wasn’t a single cloud to hide the situation, not one image made of mist to take Ai’s mind off things.

                “You’re the one then?” The deep voice sounded again, causing Ai to carefully look down and meet the man’s gaze. “Come to serve?”

                “You are the Prince?” Ai’s throat was dry, the words scratchy. It was barely a question.

                His eyes narrowed, a hint of something flickering by for a moment in their ruby depths. His mouth opened slightly, the corners turned down, before he looked out over the water like Ai had been doing a moment ago. When he answered his tone was flat, neither confirming nor disproving. Just something else. Something Ai couldn’t place.

                “I’m Rin.”

* * *

 

                Miles away, in a kingdom on the arid side of the mountains, a young man ran through the streets of a busy market, arms spread wide, a bucket in each hand. Behind him another man sprinted, older, taller, and very much unamused at his partner’s antics. The younger called to the elder and the elder shouted back, the two of them finally coming to a halt at a somewhat uninhabited square.

                “Nagisa, I have no idea why you’re still on every one’s good side.” The taller man huffed, pushing up now dusty glasses with one finger. “You just overturned an entire cart of cabbages back there.” The other boy smiled widely and danced over to the center of the square, leaning against the cool stones of the well. It was a rather hot day and the run here had left him overheated. The shade the overhang provided was a welcome relief from the biting dessert sun.

                “Aw, Rei, are you worried about me?” He cooed, twirling a strand of blonde hair around his finger. He narrowed his rosy eyes accusingly, and giggled at his companion’s discomfort. “It’s okay. You always manage to clean up the messes I make, so I won’t get in trouble!”

                “T-that doesn’t give you any more reason to make trouble in the first place!” Nagisa tutted at his tone, hitching one bucket onto the rope and lowering it down into the darkness. He spun back around and slid to the man’s side, looping his arm through his and pulling them together.

                “Hey Rei, why don’t we go see if Old Man Sasabe has some watermelon after this, huh? It’s a good day for watermelon. Nice and hot…”

                “Don’t change the subject!”

                                Nagisa laughed again, releasing his arm and pulling the bucket back up by the rope, armful, by armful. He hummed cheerfully as he did so, his hips swaying side to side with the tune. “Ah, but I really do want some watermelon. Nice, juicy, cold, sweet…” he trailed off, going still, and stared into the well confusedly.

                Rei started forward. “Nagisa, what’s…” He looked down as well, his eyebrows furrowing, and eyes rising to the mountains in the north – mountains that were usually peaked with snow but now were a simple stark grey.

                “Rei,” The younger boy inquired, sounding slightly annoyed. “Why isn’t there any water?”


	3. Chapter 3

                                Ai had started out confused, scared even. Now he was just tired.

                The rays of the sun were not any gentler closer to their source, and its constant beams that pierced into the courtyard left Ai sweating and dizzy just halfway through the day. All rooms of the royal suite connected through the roofless area, so if Ai needed just to retrieve something from the small custodial cabinet and then return to the room he was working in, he had to slink back out into the sweltering heat of the parched day. Somehow the sun always managed to work its way underneath the walkway overhangs and into his squinting eyes.

                The rooms he took care of were, although not extraordinarily large, quite lavish in their furnishings, filled with rich fabrics and dusky woods. They all looked out over a different part of the kingdom – from the indistinct mountains in the north to the endless sand in the south – as the quarters seemed to stick out away from the rest of the palace, giving it the aura of being suspended in space. Incense canisters scented the air with jasmine and rose, but served only to send Ai into a couching fit whenever he walked past. This morning he had risen early and cleaned all of them out, replacing the spices after a great deal of searching through drawers.

                He had also fluffed pillows, straightened furniture, and smoothed curtains; he dusted a thing or two, carefully, as he was not sure if anything was supposed to be off limits to him. He wandered around the suite, peaking into studies and lounges and balconies, reinvestigating his own tiny servant quarters crammed up beside the prince’s, who was nowhere to be found. Exhausting all exploration routes – save the master bedchamber – he found himself leaning against a column in the courtyard, feeling his skin blister from the heat, but not returning to his room for fear of seeming lazy.

                The water glittered in front of Ai, smooth as a sheet of glass and reflecting the vastness of the sky.  Even after walking past it for nearly a day now he still had not gotten tired of looking at it. His mind nearly exploded with thoughts of what he could do with that much water – there weren’t many places where you could even access water in the palace. On top of that, this liquid was different from any of the other he had seen. It was cool, clear, _still_. It wasn’t doing anything. All his life water had been a scarce commodity, a reward sometimes. It always had a purpose, was always being used. This water just lay there, peacefully, and it was for this difference in nature that Ai didn’t scoop some into his hands and wash his face, or fill a bucket and scrub the floors. This pool was not for work.

                Of course, the water was also not _his._ He realized that immediately. Despite the fact that not a word was spoken or a glance given, Ai completely understood. This pool belonged to the prince.

                                There were some things that he did not understand however.

                Yesterday Ai had merely been sent back downstairs to retrieve refreshments, and soon sent yet again to transfer what little things he had to here. As he stumbled up the endless stairs a second time, nearly getting lost and falling into a military meeting on his way up, he caught sight off the prince stalking off down one of the branching hallways, seemingly having just left his quarters. He didn’t turn around or notice Ai, just reached the end of the corridor before descending a lesser flight of stairs. Ai had not seen him since then, and he did not know if the man had been away all night or simply returned too late and left too early for them to run into each other.

                The lack of supervision made Ai strangely uncomfortable. He was used to not being noticed, but that was only because he blended in with the crowd. There was no time to think about it either, as he had to focus on the task at hand. Here he had neither a workforce nor distinct work; he was simply supposed to stay nearby and ‘serve the prince’. He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, and in any case, it was particularly hard to serve someone who wasn’t present.

                A complaint from his stomach snapped Ai out of his thoughts, a hand resting on the strip of bare skin between his waistband and now outgrown tunic. He hadn’t dared to venture outside of these chambers at all today for fear that the prince would return while he was out, but he hadn’t discovered any secret stores of food during his exploration. Breakfast had been skipped and now the effects where catching up with him, an angry gnawing starting in his belly and a dizziness drifting into his head.

                Ai looked around helplessly for a moment, glancing almost pleadingly at the many doorways as if one of them would suddenly morph into a loaf of bread. With a nervous shuffle of his feet and a small sigh he made his way over to the exit, having to use all of his weight to pull the hefty golden doors open. Tugging them back into place on the other side he glanced around the circular hall, giving a look towards the set of doors opposite his. The lock was still in place there, which he assumed meant that neither the guard, nor anyone likely, was there.

                He frowned, a little discouraged. He’d been half hoping that he’d spot that man again and ask him for help; he hadn’t seemed too standoffish before and perhaps he knew more about Ai’s new responsibilities than he did. Apparently his luck wasn’t good enough for it to be that easy.

                With a glance down each of the still empty hallways he scurried down the stairs, hoping to high heaven that he had memorized the way up and down by now. He still felt uneasiness traversing through the main corridors, his spine tingling with tension at every step. Ai didn’t know if being one of the higher level hands meant that he was allowed to be seen, but either way he didn’t want it. Whenever someone looked at him it usually didn’t mean something good, and the thought of people seeing him constantly made his cheeks burn with shame he knew he didn’t merit, but felt anyway.

                He still took in every bit of his surroundings as he traveled downward however, partly for the delight of it, partly because he was looking for the tiny but telltale traces of a servant’s passage entrance. His fingers trailed lightly near the breaks in the sandstone, heels quietly tapping on the floor to see if it was hollow. He came across a few suspicious places, but didn’t know how or if to open them. If a noble came by and saw him clawing at a wall they might think he was trying to flake off some of the golden paint and have him locked up; not something that he would likely escape from. With the lovely thought of dank palace dungeons and rotten rat carcasses Ai hurried into the kitchen, quickly dodging out of the way of a group of bloody butchers who ran past cradling pig roast in their arms.

                The galley was bustling - as it usually was around noontime – with people chopping and slicing and braising and baking in order to feed the entirety of the castle. Ovens were blazing as Ai snuck by them, impatient bakers burning their fingers in an attempt to get the bread out to the waiting aristocracies faster. Orders were shouting over orders, handymen dashing through the rows of workers to supply them with fresh knives, new slabs of meat, and to collect what they had finished. Ai waded around all of this chaos, his life until just yesterday, and settled himself into his usual out of the way corner, snatching a roll off a basket that whipped by his face.

                It was hot and burned his tongue, but he swallowed it all down anyway, blowing on his charred fingers afterwards. He glanced around out of habit to see if anyone had seen him eating. It was against instructions to eat during the rush-hours of the day, when meals were held, but the kitchen staff often couldn’t help themselves; they were hungry too, and there was always a mountain of food passing just under their noses. Ai supposed these rules did not apply to him anymore as he did not work in the kitchen, but the memory of many a punishment from the head chef was enough to cause him to be discreet.

                Grabbing an orange out of a crate, he settled into the shadows and dimly wondered where the other servants – ones like him, who didn’t work in the kitchen – got their food. Did they just wander in everyday and he had never noticed them? Or perhaps they joined their masters in the café, at a separate table no doubt. It seemed absurd to ponder if their masters personally provided them with food; certainly it was the other way around. Ai stuck his thumb into the orange, hissing as the acidic juice bit into a cut he’d forgotten about. He quickly stuck the thumb in his mouth, sucking the sweetly striking juice off his finger, and looking up to meet the gaze of the head chef.

                Ai instantly froze and dropped the offending fruit – an instinct learned from being witness to a worker who decided to ignore the cook’s glare and keep eating. His eyes went wide and he pressed himself into the wall, mind blank as he kept horrible eye contact with the man just across the room, his eyebrows raised as if he had discovered an interesting type of bug on the bottom of his shoe. Ai’s breathing hitched, irrational panic setting in, and he forced his eyes shut, waiting, _waiting_.

                Of course nothing happened. Deep down Ai had been fairly certain that nothing would, but that hadn’t mattered much at all. Even though when he looked up again the chef was walking away, off to concern himself with other matters, he still felt the panic, the fear, and it was that –not his own mobility – that pulled him off the ground and sent him running, barely remembering to grab the orange on his way out.

                Routine sent him scurrying to the nearest servant’s passage, slamming the bookshelf entry behind himself a little too loudly. He leaned against it on the inside, heart still racing and breathing barely calming down. Nails digging into the soft skin of the fruit he held he started to talk himself down, calming reasonable words that he didn’t usually let himself hear and didn’t usually believe. _You’re okay. It’s fine. You’re safe. No one will hurt you. It’s okay._

                A shaky breath fell out of him as he straightened up, eyes adjusting to the familiar dimness of the hallway. The claustrophobic space felt strangely comforting, dark and predictable as it was. With a final swallow he started forward into the darkness, trying to remember the direction towards the stairs so he could find his way back up. A few times he knocked his head into an unexpected beam as this route was not one he was entirely accustomed to, but he managed to go up a few floors before stumbling out of a decorative alcove near the main staircase. He glanced around the place, trying to remember this entrance, before starting up the stairs, shakily peeling and popping the fruit into his mouth.

                The orange skin found itself tucked into his pocket as Ai reached the final level. Everything was just as quiet as when he had left; the hallways still empty; the doorways still closed. With the tiredness that arrives after a sweep of adrenaline Ai pushed open the doors once more and all but fell into the courtyard, struggling for a good thirty seconds to shut the gates behind him.

                                “ _Where were you?”_

                The words sent him spinning around, a startled gasp working its way out of his mouth. A few feet away stood the prince, his crimson hair tangled, wraps heavy and dark, his eyes filled with an anger that Ai could not reason, but feared nonetheless. His bangled arms crossed, the bracelets tinkling as they glanced off each other. Ai stayed stuck in place, his eyes trained on the man in front of him, not knowing whether to look away or not so deciding to do nothing, just stand there and await the wrath.

                Brows furrowed and the prince took a step forward, his mouth falling into a scowl that distorted his features. “Was there any particular reason you decided to up and leave? You didn’t even leave a note you know.” Sarcasm laced his words, turning them to poison. Ai kept his gaze, frozen now, his bones feeling as heavy and cold as stone.

_He’d angered the prince._

                “Was it something I _did_ , little boy?” the words whipped out again, with such a quantity of malice that Ai was amazed they alone didn’t eat him like acid. His scarlet eyes were wide now as he leaned down to talk in the shorter boy’s face, a wretched sort of darkness twisting in their depths. Again in the back of his mind Ai heard the voice of reason again, but could pay it no head. His brain was shut off, not comprehending as the royal continued to shout, volume escalating.

“ _What is it kid? Say something!”_

                                With yelp Ai flinched back as a hand rose from the man’s side.

                Somewhere off in the distance a bird was singing. It must’ve been a tiny little bird, for its notes were so high. It was nearby too, then. Such delicate sound cannot carry very far. It twittered up and down an octave, carrying on into a song unknown. Another voice joined it. The voice of a girl. It too was a very gentle sound.

                Ai slowly pried his eyes open, hesitant to see whatever it was that was before him. His shoulders ached from being tensed for so long and they shook with the exertion as he again made eye contact with the man.

                His hand was raised to shoulder height and outstretched, as if meaning to reach out and guide Ai by the arm. Its fingers were slack now, the elbow ever so slowly bending to bring the appendage back to center. His mouth hung slightly open, but no words came out; he barely seemed to be breathing. Ai couldn’t hear the bird anymore.

                “Hey…” the word was strangely nervous, barely creeping out of the taller man’s lips. Ai stared back at him, still tensed as if struck, waiting for the rest of a sentence that didn’t seem to want to come. The man licked his lips, eyes focusing on the ground, suddenly much brighter, somehow so dazed. “Hey, say something.”

                Ai parted his lips, his hands balling into nervous fists at his sides. The voice was louder now and he could hear it, quiet as the world was, reminding him of something he had learned a long time ago. He was shaking and he was scared but he understood and he could understand. He still couldn’t get his body to work, however.

                Red locks of hairs fell into the other man’s face, which was scrunched up and lined with stress. “Say…something…” His teeth grit together and Ai watched as they fit with each other perfectly, like pointy puzzle pieces. “ _Dammit.”_

                It was strange how much Ai understood, being how different the two of them obviously were, but he supposed some things stay the same no matter who you are. If one looked they could always find the true meaning behind words, the true image behind a wall. The string of curses that follow the pain of a cut. The shouting that follows the reveal of an unfaithful spouse. It is odd how so often emotions that are hard to understand are substituted by anger, which is simple and fast. There is no point to anger – it’s merely a reaction when something is wrong – and Ai knew this as he made his spine straighten and forced his hands to untighten themselves.

                The redheaded prince met his eyes with ones filled a cloud of confusion, a daze of feeling that Ai couldn’t decipher. Not ‘what’ he knew, but he understood ‘why’ and he placed an unsure smile on his face.

                “It’s just…too nice of a day to stay cooped up.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I get 100 kudos I'll continue :)

Chapter 4

                                Everything was grey.

                Makoto was used to this; Iwatobi was a desolate place. Rocky ground and gravel pits littered the landscape broken only by irrigation canals fed by the snow of the nearby mountain range. The peaks blocked all weather coming from the north – where the prevailing winds usually originated over the sea – and as such, rain was such a rare thing Makoto could not say he had ever seen it.

                Makoto leaned his head into his hand as he looked out over the sunrise, giving a warm gleam to the stone landscape and setting the far-off southern desert afire.  The sky was a perfect gradient without a single cloud to interrupt the change from black, to purple, to gold, to red. He blinked sleepily, a yawn escaping his mouth. He had awoken a bit early today – too early to head out – and was enjoying his infrequent time for relaxation. Life had been a bit hectic lately.

                Makoto smiled as a small white feline emerged from across the street, padding out of alleyway and up to his open window. It gave a small yip and hopped onto the sill, rubbing its little head against Makoto’s bicep. He petted it absentmindedly, scratching its pale ears and chuckling lightly as its purr crescendoed.

                                “Makoto.”

                His head snapped to the side, startling the cat as he straightened up, his eyes widening in surprise.

                “ _Haru?”_ The figure took a few steps closer until they stood just outside the window. A plain tan cloak wrapped around them, Makoto had to stoop once more to see their face. Surely enough, he was met with a familiar pair of cobalt eyes, guarded and closed off, yet full of light and passion.

                With a gasp of surprise Makoto dashed out of the nearby door and pulled the man inside with him, locking the entrance and closing the shutters. The cat mewed pitifully from the other side of the wood.

                “What are you _doing_ , Haru?” Makoto groaned, sounding for all the world as if his appearance was an annoyance, while of course it was just the opposite. “I was going to show up in an hour anyway. Walking the streets in the dark is dangerous! You know that!”

                The man appeared unmoved, removing Makoto’s hands from his shoulders after a moment. His fingers lingered just barely on the other’s, pale soft skin against tanned and toughened calluses.

                “I didn’t come here to see you,” he spoke bluntly, yet softening the blow of his seemingly cold words with an apologetic glance. Makoto blinked, brushing off the slight twinge in his chest and furrowing his brows. The few times Haru would show up at his home had always been because he needed Makoto for some thing or another. Sometimes he just wanted to be talked to. Either way, something was off today. Haru seemed too tense, his expression too strained.

                He wrapped the cloak tighter around himself and took a step back towards the door. “I need to show you something.” His eyes flashed as Makoto opened his mouth to protest, his lips hardening into a firm line. _It’s important. Now._

Makoto held his hands up in surrender, - _Okay, okay -_ reaching over momentarily to grab his sword from where it always hung on the wall. He strapped it over his back and slipped on his sandals, just catching the door as Haru let it fling shut behind him.

They strode through the just-awakening city, Haru proceeding quickly, surely, Makoto alert, keeping an eye on every alleyway, every rooftop, every step that the man in front of him took. It was habit – no robber would be stupid enough to attack two grown men – but one he wasn’t about to try and shake. He needed these instincts. His awareness was important; it could alone save or raze the kingdom.

The sun rose higher, heating the air around them considerably. Makoto found his tongue dry and he was glad Haru didn’t seem to want him to talk; his mouth felt like sandpaper. He licked his lips, feeling the precious moisture instantly evaporate, leaving his skin more chapped than before.

They were out of the suburbs now, into the small knolls and prickly brush that lined the base of the highlands. Haru worked his way through the tangles, occasionally slapping Makoto in the face with a trailing branch on accident. Said taller boy barely held his tongue as his companion struggled through the thorns. He knew Haru didn’t want him to help him, didn’t like him to baby him, but sometimes Makoto couldn’t help it. Protecting was in his job description, and when it came to Haru there was not much else he’d rather do.

The two finally stumbled into a clearing, strangely thin and long, stretching for quite a distance in two directions. Haru stopped short, staring downwards at the ground, silent, gesturing after a second for Makoto to come by his side. He pointed to the relative center of the clearing, equal distance from either side. The ground sloped down slightly, a path worn into the grit and rock. In a shallow dip a cupful of water had pooled, murky with dust blown in by the wind.

“The canals have dried up.” Haru’s voice was quiet as Makoto finally realized what he was looking at. It was part of the irrigation system, a stream that began in the heights of the mountains, carrying melted snow downwards. He looked upwards, squinting to see the peaks in the dim morning light. He was greeted with the sight of an unusual stark color, no patterns of ice spread across the range. There was no snow, and there had been no seaside weather for a while now.

“Most of the city wells are just damp holes.” Makoto’s eyes widened as he turned to face Haru again. His face was downturned, contemplative. “Soon there will be a famine, riots. I’ve already called for rationing but it’s not helping much.” His gaze turned to Makoto, blue meeting green.

“My people will die.” The words were simple, the tone intense. Haru’s faced hardened like the stone making up the landscape around them. Makoto held his breath, wheels turning in his head. He had heard of the water ration, but hadn’t known expressly how bad the situation was. Obviously without water Iwatobi would not survive, but what was Haru trying to say?

His azure gaze held until he spoke again, words pointed, “I must find water,” and things clicked into place. He exhaled, eyes breaking away before he could stop them. Haru must have seen the discomfort on his face, the slight trace of bitterness, for he reached out a hand, wrapping the other man’s fingers around his own. It made sense now, why this was urgent, why it was Haru’s problem personally, and why he had chosen to tell Makoto.

“I’m coming with you,” Makoto mumbled out, more a question than a declaration. Haru closed his eyes, nodding slowly, and rubbing circles on the back of Makoto’s hand. A small sigh came out of the shorter man as he looked past the buildings of the city and into the desert, the horizon a hazy distortion between sand and sky. He knew the land out there, he knew the path to his destination, but somehow it still seemed almost certain that he would lose his way.

_***_

"Good morning Your Majesty!" Ai practically shouted, throwing his head to the ground from his position on his knees. There was a shuffle as a curtain was pushed aside, the prince emerging from his chambers. Ai kept his head down,  hands in front of him submissively.

The royal groaned irritably. "You're so loud. It's too early for this, kid."

"S-sorry, sir!"

"You don't have to call me 'sir'."

Ai lifted his head, smiling sheepishly. The prince was dressed in loose black robes, his hair a tangled mess. He chewed on his lip absentmindedly, eyes still droopy with sleep. "O-okay! Sorry, sir- Sorry!" He quickly corrected himself.

The man just shook his head and stepped around the kneeling boy, traipsing through an archway into a reclining room.

Ai smiled, pulling himself up from the floor and striding across the courtyard. It had been three days since his little confrontation with the prince. In that time he had managed to somewhat figure out his new role in the palace. He cleaned the royal suite and attended to its inhabitant, living in a tiny side dorm so that he would be there anytime he was needed. This usually only included delivering food and running laundry and other errands to the lowers floors.

However one notable afternoon the prince had just started talking to him as he relaxed in the water. Pointless little things, but talking nonetheless. He seemed to like Ai, or at least he didn't dislike him.

Despite his initial fright, Ai found himself growing somehow fond of the man. Perhaps it was just the fact that he was so unused to having his presence noticed that it being of some sort of use - to a noble no less - was almost blissful. Though the prince was away for most of the day, whenever he returned he was interesting, sarcastic and seemingly world-weary, but wonderfully puzzling at the same time, full of an intrigue that Ai had never experienced. In just a few days Ai had begun to expect the weird moods and understand to an extent what they meant. There was never another occasion in which the prince yelled at him however.

Ai rung the bell hanging near the main door three times, having to use all of his weight to pull the rope descending to the kitchen far below. In a few minutes he checked the stairwell and as usual the princes breakfast was waiting, set up nicely on a sliver tray, with a little bit of something set aside for

He grabbed the bread and fruit, sticking it into his shallow pocket before lifting the tray and carrying it over to the room his master had entered. Inside, the man had reclined on a cushion at a low lying table by a window, the frame open to the balcony beyond to let the soft morning breeze through. Ai inclined his head as they met eyes, setting the tray in front of him. Out of habit he slid over to a wall, arranging cushions lying about the floor, and refilled an incense lantern. With another short bow he turned to leave the room, but the prince lifted his hand, a curiously bemused look in his eye.

"Going to make me eat all alone?" His voice was laced with light sarcasm, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. Ai's chest lifted. He seemed in a good mood today.

"Only if you want to," he inclined his head toward the seat opposite him and the man shrugged. Ai sat down, heart hammering excitedly in his chest.

Ai knew this wasn't how the upper class usually treated servants. He'd had too many accidents, too many slip ups, to regularly expect civility from them. But he was beginning to understand that the prince, who'd even requested to be called by his name, wasn't extraordinarily orthodox. He wasn't a friend exactly - the castes still existed - but Ai knew that had their situations been different that's what they would likely become. As it was, Ai wanted a job. As for the prince, Rin...

"'Say there's a heat wave coming." The redhead pushed hair off his sticky forehead and scowled at the searing outside sky. "God forsaken weather."

Ai smiled.

Rin just wanted someone to talk to. 

It wasn't perfect, but it was nice, better than any situation he had been in before. Here he had security, food, and an almost-friend that would take care of everything if he just took care of him.

"Hey, make sure you clean the pool today." The princes voice brought Ai back to reality. "If it's gonna be this fucking hot then I want to be able to do something about it." He fanned himself with a hand, lazily pushing grains of rice around his plate.

Ai took a bite of his roll, peeling an overripe banana with his other hand. "Agh," he moaned good-naturedly. "That sounds so hard though..." Across from him the man raised an eyebrow and reached across the table to lightly smack Ai on the forehead, mumbling something about a 'lazy bastard'.

With an upbeat apology and tilt of his head it suddenly set in for Ai that he had never been happier.

\---

                For the whole morning he washed the floors. At noon he aired all the fabrics and beat the rugs over a window sill. By late afternoon Ai was standing at the edge of the water, eyeing a slight dirty stain on the ceramic wall with reluctance. 

The thing was, the pool was kind of important to Rin. It was some sign of his power and wealth, being that he could have such a quantity of something so scarce to others. Plus almost every day he would return from his work and collapse in the thing, swimming around indolently if he pleased. He enjoyed it, Ai understood that. Ai also understood that he had absolutely no idea of how to maintain a body of water. It wasn’t as if he often got to deal with the liquid.

He dipped his hand in, the temperate a warm but refreshing blanket around his skin. Does it require some kind of treatment? Should he scrub the walls and floor? What should he do about the gunk that would kick up? The prince certainly would not be happy to have dirt floating around while he swam.

Ai sighed, standing up and shaking his hand to dry it. He’d have to try something. He glanced at the water cautiously. He had a scrub brush; perhaps if he lowered himself-

“ _I am not in the mood right no_ w!” Ai spun around to the sound of the prince’s voice, the main door opening, a group of people spilling into the courtyard.

“For God’s sake, just listen to me! _Brother!_ ”

“ _My lady! Gou!_ You can’t leave your room right now! _”_

“My name is _KOU!”_

Ai stiffened as Rin barreled past and stepped behind him, seemingly using the younger boy as a shield against the other two visitors. Red in the face and seemingly breathless was the guard Ai remembered from his first day on the top floor. Beside him was a petite young woman with the same colorings as the man positioned being Ai. With a start he realized she must be the princess. However, she was currently not behaving much like one.

“Oh piss off, Seijuro.” She made a sweeping motion behind her, pretty face scrunching up irritably. “All I ever do is sit around in that place. I’m not even one hundred feet from the entrance-“

“That’s because it’s where you’re supposed to _stay_!” Seijuro spat back, hands flitting restlessly around near the girl’s shoulders. For all of his strength and size he looked about as helpless as a dizzy kitten. Ai couldn’t blame him; the princess did seem rather ferocious. “Your mother ordered me to protect you, Gou, and-“

“I said to call me _Kou!_ Gou is a boy’s name!”

“That’s the _point_! Another defensive measure! To make the people see you as a man and respect you-“

“I don’t care!”

“And that’s why RinRin here has his pissy little lady’s name, to even out the playing field-“

 _“HEY.”_ The room went silent as Rin barked out the word threateningly. Risking a glance back at him Ai saw his wide eyes, furious and shocked at that same time. His next words were low, the growl of an antagonized tiger. _“_ If you actually have something important to say then spit it out, _Christ_. Otherwise go take your goddamn _lover’s squabble_ back outside where I don’t have to hear it!”

This instantly garnered a reaction. Blossoms of red spread across both of the quarrelers faces and they mumbled incoherent excuses, not meeting anyone’s gaze. Ai didn’t miss how Rin’s face twitched irately at this.

Ai couldn’t help but let loose an awkward giggle, stepping sideways to get out of the line of fire. A pair of round ruby eyes were drawn were drawn by the motion, Princess Gou (Kou?) finally seeming to notice his presence.

“Oh my!” She exclaimed breathily, stepping forward to look the boy’s face up and down. “Brother, is this your new servant?” Her smile was wide, lashes batting charmingly, and in the back of his mind Ai noted that she was excellent at changing the subject.

Rin scowled, Ai squirming under the sudden weight of his gaze. His hands itched, the direct attention still unusual. “Yeah, he’s mine.” The words were very matter-of-fact.

A snort found its way out of Seijuro, his arms crossing as an amused smirk spread across his face.  “And you’ve actually stuck around this long?  Well, I suppose it’s not _that_ much of a surprise. I mean everyone’s _always_ mentioning Rin’s gracious and warm personality.”

“Be quiet.” Rin’s words held their usual authority, but the soldier didn’t retract his stupid grin, seeming to think that the man wouldn’t reprimand him if he didn’t. Ai was beginning to believe the same. To his constant surprise, the Samezuka royals seemed to be comparatively casual with their servants. This incident only served to cement this assumption. Judging by Seijuro’s belittling nickname for the prince – _RinRin-_ he had been around the two for quite a while. He was untouchable.

Despite the contentment the realization should have brought, Ai felt some kind of coldness stir inside him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but as the trio argued and laughed, Gou poking her brother’s arm impishly while he snarled halfheartedly back, it grew, spreading a sad smile onto his face. This gentle companionship, something about it seemed fragile, threatened, like a sand viper burrowed into the path below your feet.

“Hey, Kid. _Nitori._ ” Ai practically jumped. It was the first time the prince had used his name, even if it was just his last one.

“Yes, sir!” He replied eagerly and the man scowled. He realized he forgot to drop the ‘sir’ again.

“Go make some tea,” he sighed, turning away from the princess and her bodyguard to meet his eyes. “Something that will calm them down. I swear, it’s like they drank peyote juice…” Ai bowed slightly before jogging off to the supply room.

He grabbed some chamomile and pumped up some hot water from the boilers, the liquid taking a second to seep out from the pipes. Popping the herbs into the water he threw some cup onto a tray and carried it back into the courtyard, following the sounds of voices to a side room where the three had sat on rugs around the center of the room.

Just like in the beginning of the day he set the tray down in front of the prince, bowed, and turned to walk away. And just like in the beginning of the day a voice called him back, eyes glancing to the neighboring seat as an invitation. With a nervous smile he sat down, keeping his head low but eyes high as he glanced around the circle.

There was the princess, with her silken drapery and bangles all down her arms, long scarlet hair pulled away to tumble down her back. Beside her was Seijuro, the soldier, watching her every move with a fierce sort of attention that Ai could tell was produced by more than just his duty. His scimitar was ever present at his side, a golden gleaming warning to anyone who threatened the peace of the palace. Finally there was Rin, the prince, sitting at Ai’s side with an impassive expression, his eyes sharp yet relaxed, emanating power, wealth, and a strange sort of heat that Ai could feel from half a foot away.

He served up the tea, passing it around the table with a nod to each person – they were all of higher status than him – and sat back on his heels, sipping his own share of the warm beverage timidly.

The cold churning in his stomach had begun to subside, the foreboding taking a comfortable place in the back of his mind. Blinking sleepily in the sticky heat of the room, Ai looked to the side, halfway blinded by the light streaming in through an uncurtained window. The light carved Rin’s silhouette in a perfect mix of black and red and gold, his cerise eyes shining like gems when they glanced over to meet Ai’s cerulean ones. The servant boy smiled after a moment, giving a slight almost confused shrug. The noble blinked once or twice, perhaps in surprise, but didn’t look away. The edge of his lips twitched.

Ai wasn’t sure what he was worrying about.


End file.
